


Something Good

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Issues, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Sick Sam Winchester, Sleep Deprivation, and, showtunes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Everyone deals with their losses in their own way, and Sam prefers to work things out on his own. But his angel friend can’t stand on the sidelines as the hunter wastes away in pain. Sam may have had a complex past, but an angel’s love is proof that he must have done something good.





	1. Close Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to lovely Mika
> 
> It is a combination of Mika’s song prompt and an anonymous prompt from Tumblr requesting hurt/comfort Sastiel. Enjoy!

For all his love for his kid brother, for all his natural instinct to protect and nurture, even Dean missed the signs. It was a tribute to just how much Sam didn’t want him to know, that he was able to keep his secret for so long. 

Castiel was the one who became suspicious first. But Castiel was easy enough. Regardless of how many times the poor angel had been lied to and betrayed, he still assumed everyone was telling him the truth. So when Sam told him he was imagining things, Castiel admitted he may have misunderstood. Humans were still a bit of a puzzle to him. 

The truth was that Sam wasn’t sleeping again. But there was nothing that his friend or brother could do about that, so he saw no point in worrying them about it. There were too many other things going on. There were always too many other things going on. 

Having Castiel back was a relief. But watching Lucifer grab hold of his mother and yank her into that other place...His heart ached and his mind punished him mercilessly for his helplessness. 

Lucifer had Mary. 

Every day, he focused on helping Jack, on being Dean’s rock, on finding a way back to that place, and hunting evil in the meantime. But in the nights, when he should be falling hard asleep the minute he hit the pillow, he found himself sighing up at the darkness in his room and fighting off the madness he had experienced years ago, until morning came. Even when he could doze, nightmares plagued him. 

What would Lucifer do to his mother? Snap her out of existence? No. Sam and Dean had taken too much from him in the past to simply kill her. Sam had said no too many times for Lucifer to just let her die. There were too many other, nauseating things that the imaginative and frustrated Devil could do. 

Closing Sam’s eyes just brought more pain. 

At some point, without realizing it, he had stopped eating, except for when Dean ate with him. Sam had been surprised to feel the way his jeans didn’t fit quite as well as he remembered. They hung on his hips looser than before. 

“Getting thin,” Castiel had remarked earlier. “Sam, are you feeling well?”

He had startled at the question. “What? Yeah. Why?”

Castiel had frowned. “You’ve lost some of your weight. I believe that a sudden change in body mass sometimes indicates a human is under stress. Are you unwell, Sam?”

Sam had tried to laugh, and lowered his gaze back to his research. “You’re imagining things, Cas. Stress is part of the job. You know that.”

His friend was nodding in Sam’s periphery. “Yes. It is. I apologize then. I still find your human body quite confusing at times, no matter how long I’ve studied it.” 

He was turning a page very deliberately, but now he turned to stare at the angel. 

Castiel had been looking at another book in the library, but now he turned to stare back. His eyes widened slightly. “Not...yours specifically, of course. I didn’t mean that.”

A smirk of humor pushed past Sam’s exhaustion. “Yeah, I get that. It sounds like you’re the one who might need to take a stress break.”

He smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I must be diligent for Jack’s sake. My opportunity for sleep was the Void. And I chose instead to make a nuisance of myself.”

Sam’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you did, Cas. We. We’re glad. It’s good to have you back.”

Castiel had just nodded once, but Sam could see the tiny sparkle of pride and pleasure in his friend’s eyes at being reminded that his adopted humans had missed him. 

So Sam was left alone with his creeping madness, and no one was the wiser. 

He tried drinking himself to sleep, because he was a Winchester, after all. Hunter’s Helper was for getting through the night after seeing horrors the brain couldn’t process. But this method simply left him hungover and miserable, and the sleep he got from it was hardly worth it. 

Medications were useless as well. Every time he tried to take a sleeping pill, Lucifer’s voice rang through his head, reminding him he was only bringing free drugs to the party, and he couldn’t bring himself to take it. 

Then came the day Dean announced that he was going to take the car and go check on Jody and her strays. “Try to be less bitchy when I get back,” he teased. 

Sam had blinked at him. “What?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s a Laundry Day, kiddo. One of us needs a break. So do some freaking yoga or something. You’re bitchy and burned out. I ain’t hunting with you like this. Eat some green stuff and read something boring till you feel better. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Irritation and stubbornness made him try to work out while Dean was gone. He jogged as always, and he chugged water, but found that he couldn’t bring himself to swallow any food. He went into the Men of Letters gym, to prove to himself he was still in fighting form, mostly to spite an absent big brother. He even smirked to himself and turned on his iPod to stream showtunes he knew Dean would have made fun of, so he could enjoy Hamilton in peace, while he worked out. 

Sam knew entirely too well how it felt to lose consciousness while standing. How many times had some creature stolen his mind from him, leaving his body to crash to the ground on its own? How many times had he been low on blood? How many times had he slumped helplessly to the floor…


	2. Human Things

Castiel held up a finger to tell Jack to wait, but he softened the command with a smile. He smiled more around Jack, he had realized lately. That is, Sam had pointed it out in that teasing but not unkind voice of his, and then Castiel had noticed it himself. For that matter, Castiel smiled around Sam more than most others, and it was always gratifying when the man smiled back. He never minded when Sam laughed a little at what he said. Dean could roll his eyes all he liked. The way Sam breathed out his laugh, like just being with the angel made him happier...Castiel pulled up those perfect little moments during his darkest hours, and they sustained him. The little breath of amusement, the lowering of enigmatic hazel eyes, the nearly shy ducking of his head, it was beautiful in its way. Castiel’s own sense of humor tended to be jaded and dark, but it was his awkward sincerity which seemed to amuse his friend the most. Whenever Dean was throwing his hands up in exasperation, Sam was giving him that tiny breath of mirth, and even if Castiel wasn’t quite sure why, and even if he suspected it was due to a mistake on his own part, Castiel lived for the moments like that, when Sam relaxed and smiled because of Castiel.

Castiel knew better than most how badly Sam needed lightness in his life. Lucifer may be known as the Bringer of Light, but his darkness had corrupted Sam Winchester from the inside out his entire life.

While Jack waited in patience, Castiel answered his phone. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, man. How’s the spawn?”

He rolled his eyes. He and Dean tended to do that to one another a great deal. “Jack is fine,” he ground out. “And considering that you know his name, you might try using it occasionally.”

“Nah. Not so long as it still gets your feathers in a twist.”

Loving this human was easy. Not smiting him would probably always be the difficult part of their friendship. “How can I help you, Dean?”

“Wondering if you and Junior can maybe check in on Sam at some point. He’s not answering his phone, but that’s probably just him sulking because I called him bitchy when I left the bunker early this morning. I don’t know. My Sammy sense is tingling.”

“Is that an uncomfortable sensation?” Castiel wondered as he turned to see what Jack was up to in his absence. He found the boy staring directly up at the sun, something even Castiel’s vessel’s eyes wouldn’t allow him to do without requiring him to heal them after. He considered warning Jack to not look directly at the nucleus of the solar system, but conceded that it probably didn’t matter.

“Look, dumbass. He’s pissy and I know he doesn’t want to hear from me right now, but I need to know he’s fine. Otherwise, I’ll drive all the way back tonight to check myself, just to end up pissing him off more. Kid’s got a real short fuse lately.”

A feeling of dread filled Castiel. “I’ll check on him,” he murmured.

“Good. Because I gotta tell you, it ain’t just him that needs the break. If I don’t stay a night or two away, I might throw a punch, and that’s just the truth. We haven’t been at each other’s throats like the last few days since before the first end of the world. We need a night or two apart, and we’ll be good again. Been breathing each other’s air for too many weeks on end, you know?”

Castiel suspected there was plenty of air to go around, but he didn’t say so. “I’ll let you know how he is.”

Relief sounded in Dean’s voice. “Yeah. Good. Thanks, man. Look, Donna’s in town, and she and Jody and me are going to grab a beer and relax for a few hours. We all need some down time. You and Jack are good, right?”

Dean checked on Castiel himself so often that the angel had given up trying to return every impatient voice message. But considering their risky lifestyles, he couldn’t blame the man for needing reassurance that his people were all accounted for. “We’re fine, Dean. I’ll text you soon.” He liked texting. Emoticons were fascinating.

“Okay, buddy. I owe you one.”

Jack was watching him when he hung up. “Is everything okay?”

“Probably,” Castiel hedged. “But just in case, I’d like to return to the bunker to see for myself.” He narrowed his eyes. “Jack, do you think you could perhaps…”

It was always Jack’s pleasure to be helpful. Castiel missed flight badly, but Jack certainly made things easier sometimes. He thanked the young nephilim quietly as they reappeared outside the bunker.

“You stay out here, Jack. In case there’s some sort of trouble.” He put up his hand at the inevitable protest. “Not because you cannot be helpful, or because you need protection.” Though he did. Clearly, he did. “Because if there’s trouble, you need to call Dean and let him know.”

Jack seemed pacified with this. “But make sure you call me if you need backup. I can help.”

He smiled fondly at his charge. “Yes. I know you can. You already have. Stay here, and keep watch for anything unusual.”

With that, he entered the bunker, and let the door close behind him. His sharp ears picked up music playing somewhere below. “Sam?”

No response came, and he quickened his step down the stairs.

“Sam? Are you here?” He followed the sound of music floating eerily through the bunker. He felt his dread building with every step. He knew he needed to be cautious, but he couldn’t help breaking into a near-run when he continued to hear nothing from his friend.

Dean was right. Something horrible had happened. Sam was lost.

Sam was lost.

The words slammed into Castiel until he gasped with the impact. In the instant before he found the source of the music, the weight of those words crushed Castiel.

Sam lost. Loss of Sam meant loss of his Father’s greatest work of art. Loss of that breathy laugh and clever smirk meant the loss of all sunshine in a dark world. Loss of that courage, that determination, that fiercely stubborn optimism meant the loss of Castiel’s hope. Castiel had heard the Reaper. There would be no return for his dear friend, his brightest inspiration, not this time. With Sam’s loss would come an eclipse upon Dean’s heart and the utter desolation of Castiel’s spirit.

The music at last led the angel to his friend, who lay unconscious on the floor of a weight room Castiel wasn’t even aware existed. He slid to his knees across the stone, to lean over Sam desperately. “Sam!” he called in a hoarse cry. “Sam!”

The man’s head moved slightly on his neck, but his eyes did not even flicker.

Castiel touched his forehead, let his healing grace work, and then frowned in horror. Relief of pain softened Sam’s features, but he still did not awaken. “Sam? What...I can’t heal this, Sam! What happened to you…”

Realization strummed through him, and he sat back on his heels.

“You’re...Sam, you’re not injured. I’ve healed the damage, but I cannot heal the cause. You’re malnourished, and-and dehydrated, and you’re...Sam, what have you done to yourself?”

Sam was breathing, but too shallowly for Castiel’s liking.

He shook his head. “Sam? Please. You must wake up and tell me what to do. I’ve never...I’m not that type of angel, and I don’t know how to...You have to wake up, Sam, so I can ask you how to help you. Please, Sam!”

Still the man lay silent.

Castiel pulled Sam’s body in to cradle his head in his arms. Panic was filling his lungs until he nearly could not breathe past it. “Sam, you have to help me help you! I can heal damage, Sam; I’ve done that. But I cannot replace what you need to survive. I cannot do for you…” Tears burned his eyes until he relented and let them wash his face. “I cannot be what you are to me. Sam, you’re my every breath. You’re my bread and water, like no angel has needed before me. You’re my sustenance, Sam. Please. You must tell me how to be that for you. I can take you to a hospital. Is that what I should...Help me, Sam!”

“Angel.”

The word was a breath only, but it was something, two syllables Castiel could grasp onto. “Yes, Sam! I’m here. I healed you, you see,” he wept frantically, “but I cannot replenish your body. If you are not awake, if I try to give you water, I don’t know if...Sam! Wake up, Sam! I’m not a human doctor, and I don’t know...I don’t know!”

Sam’s eyes finally blinked once. “Cas,” he murmured. “Don’t tell Dean.” Then he went still again in the angel’s arms.

Anger boiled in his grace suddenly. “Don’t tell Dean? That’s how things like this happen! You two hide things from one another, from me, and you suffer in silence, push away any attempt to help, and you end up hurting us all that way! How many times have you each prevented the other from helping? And I’m left broken-hearted and helpless when faced with your pain. You can’t, Sam! I can’t anymore! I love you too much. Dean too, always, but you, Sam! I just can’t watch you hurting alone.”

The hunter was far too light in his arms. Castiel lifted him from the ground, and carried him up the stairs to the living quarters, to the room Sam had made for himself and yet had shared with Castiel in his generosity. He lay the man out over the bed, and knelt beside him. He gripped Sam’s hand tightly in his own.

“I can give you what you need if you let me,” he murmured. “But I know you would rather die than let another angel in. So a human hospital-“

“Cas, no.” Cracked lips emitted a groan, and dull hazel eyes fought to open. “No. I’m okay.”

“You’re not! Belovéd, stubborn human! Beautiful, arrogant thing! I can’t do nothing! But I don’t know what to do!”

A tiny smile spread Sam’s lips to reveal a slit where blood peeked out. “I just passed out, Cas,” he croaked. “Water, okay?”

Castiel tore through the bunker to provide Sam with a bottle of water from the kitchen. “It isn’t enough,” he fretted. “You need more than that! Sam, help me! What will help you fastest?”

The eyes closed in exhaustion, but he sighed out a syllable for Castiel. “Soup. It’ll...Soup will help me get my head back.”

He returned to the kitchen to throw open every cabinet until he located a can of chicken noodle soup, like he had seen on television. Yes. Soup. That was what helped humans feel better, stronger. He remembered from his own days as a human. Soup had been a minor miracle for a starving human.

Sam was partway through the mug of soup before it occurred to Castiel that he should have heated it. He babbled an apology, desperately hoping the heating of the meal was not crucial for its curative qualities. But Sam shook his head with a weak smile. “It’s fine, man. If Dean and I cared too much about the canned crap we eat, we’d have starved years ago.”

That wasn’t what Castiel considered encouraging. “It’s more palatable warm. I’ll warm the next one.”

The man set the mug on the bedside table, and sighed wearily. “I can’t drink any more of that, Cas. I’m fine, okay? Really. I’m much better. I don’t know what happened.”

The anger flushed his cheeks pink again. “I do. You stopped feeding yourself. And when I healed you, it felt as though you hadn’t slept in a week. You can’t do that, Sam! If something is bothering you, you must say so! Let me help you! I can’t...I can’t bear to lose you. You’re everything to me, and I just can’t lose you!”

Sam was staring at him.

He swiped at his tears in humiliation. “To us. You’re everything to me and Dean and Jack.” He stumbled away from Sam’s bed then. “Dean and Jack. I must let them know you will be all right. You will. I’ll make sure of it.”

When he closed the door behind him, he had to brace himself on the wall for a moment to gather himself. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

How close had he come to losing Sam? He didn’t know much about depletion of calories and hydration. He had experienced it himself too many times, and it terrified him. It was something an archangel could surely cure, but even as a seraph, Castiel could only heal injury or disease. Emptiness was not something he could heal with a touch. Desperation was not something he could cure.

Sam seemed to be all right for now. Perhaps it had not been so dire as it had seemed. But Castiel had no understanding of that type of need, except that he had felt it himself in his brief sojourn as a human, and it frightened him. Of all the things Sam could do to himself, why this?

“Please,” he whispered to the quiet bunker. “Please, Sam. You are so loved. I know what it is to hunger, to thirst, to need sleep so badly that I ache for it. I remember those things. But I was also unloved and alone. You are not alone, my love. Never. And I will not let you suffer these things as though you are.”

With new determination, he pushed himself forward and ascended the bunker stairs to report back to his friends. Then he would return to Sam’s side for as long as it took.


	3. From Nothing

He watched the angel disappear from the room to contact his brother and his adopted nephilim, and he felt a small smile creep up on him. It was a strange family, but it was family. And they deserved to have him truly in fighting form as much as Mary. He would never give up on finding Mary, not ever, no matter what Dean said. But in the meantime, Castiel was right. He owed it to his family to take care of himself better. They loved him.

Warmth settled into his aching muscles. He was loved. It made no sense at all. But it was true.

Gradually, he realized his iPod was still playing beside him, swirling gentle music in the air around him. He listened, and suddenly his smile was salty-wet with tears.

 _Perhaps I had a wicked childhood._  
 _Perhaps I had a miserable youth.  
But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past_  
_There must have been a moment of truth._

The boy with the demon blood. The angry, sardonic child who grew into the angry, rebellious young man. That boy had done breathtakingly horrible things. He didn’t deserve the love of good people. But yet they loved him.

Castiel. His foggy mind fought desperately for the words the angel had spoken. Had there been more than the love of brotherhood in his shaking voice?

Sam nearly laughed. More than the love of brotherhood. As if there were any such thing. But different. There was something different in Castiel’s words, something Sam ached for. Something good.

_For here you are, standing there, loving me.  
Whether or not you should._

And he shouldn’t. There was no doubt of that in Sam’s mind. The things Sam had done, in anger, in vengeance, in arrogance...No one should love a man like him. A monster like him. Certainly not an angel. Certainly not _the_ angel, the one whose capacity for hope and heart exceeded every other celestial being combined. Not the one Sam adored with all his duct-taped heart and safety-pinned soul. But whether or not he should, Castiel had said it.

_So somewhere in my wicked, miserable youth,  
I must have done something good._

Had he? He felt so helpless against the universe, so helpless against the creature that had his mother in his claws. He felt useless in this fight, heartbroken and weary as he tried to prove to Dean, to Jack, to himself, that free will still bested destiny, against all evidence to the contrary. Wasn’t he the best example of failure in that respect? How could he tell Jack that he could do good, be good, if Sam himself couldn’t?

But Castiel loved him. And that was the strongest point, the most powerful testimony, that, in spite of everything, he must have done something good.

Sam had never heard this song before. He remembered turning on Hamilton to keep him company while he worked out. This was obviously a different show. But whoever it was who sang, it was beautiful, and he desperately wanted her to be right.

 _Nothing comes from nothing._  
 _Nothing ever could.  
So somewhere in my youth or childhood_  
_I must have done something good_.

Whoever it was who sang his song, he wished her all the love in the world. He suspected that she wasn’t as wicked as she suggested, but he hoped she was right anyway.

The door opened again, and his angel friend slipped in again. He hesitated, then sat beside Sam on the bed. He took a long breath, and seemed to have come to a decision which required courage.

Sam watched silently.

Castiel hardened his features with determination. “Sam, I’ve let your brother and Jack know you’ll be all right, and I’ve moved Jack back into the bunker for the time being. You need someone watching over you.”

He shook his head out of habit. “I’m fine, Cas. I made a mistake, but I’ll figure it out. The nightmares and insomnia will pass. They always do. I didn’t even really realize I wasn’t eating. I’ll do better. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Again came the long breath and the determination. “Sam, I want to watch over you. And I want you to let me. Because...because I love you. I don’t care what you think of that. I love you, and I want to know you’re all right. And...and, Sam, I love you. I’m in love with you. I haven’t wanted to tell you before, but-but I do, and I think you should let me love you, even if you don’t reciprocate that feeling, because-because you need someone to watch over you, and...and…I’m already devoted to you, and I know I’m not an angel of the guardian class, but I think I have proven that I can-“

Sam smiled weakly, and put his hand up to stop his friend. Warmth filled him everywhere that he had felt depleted only a moment ago. “Castiel,” he whispered hoarsely.

The stubborn blue gaze stared in defiance, as though he expected to be chided for his words. “I’m sorry if that isn’t what you expected to hear. But it’s true. I love you, Sam, and I will never be able to leave you to suffer alone.”

He touched Castiel’s hand gently, and felt the creature startle. Sam lifted his hand to his own lips and kissed the knuckles while watching Castiel’s reaction. It was a mixture of terror and relief, of deep pleasure and trembling uncertainty. “I love you, Castiel. I’ve always loved you. And if you love me, whether or not you should, I’m not stupid enough to push that away. I don’t know why you love me, Cas, but if you do, I want that. I need that.”

Nothing came from nothing. Dawn came from the darkest night. If Castiel could love him...Sam must have done something right.


	4. Because I Love Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is curious about the new relationship developments around him.

Jack was not familiar with how humans paired. His only experience with such a thing was an awkward, confusing conversation with Sam after finding a magazine on Dean’s bed when he was wandering the bunker. Of course he understood the anatomy of it all, the process of procreation. For that matter, he understood the procreation of spiders and seahorses too, after spending some time on the internet. But that didn’t mean that he understood coupling, especially if that coupling was unlikely to result in procreation.

So he finally had to ask the source of his perplexity.

“Sam? Are you Castiel’s mate?”

The hunter fumbled his pen and finally let it drop onto the book he was taking notes into. “What-what makes you ask about that?”

“It was explained to me that you two are now together, paired in a way in which you were not before.”

Sam laughed a little, and shifted in his chair. “Uh, Yeah. I mean, I thought we explained it. We tried to explain it. Did we not? Explain it?”

Jack blinked at him. “You did. But there are a few questions I still have, if that’s all right.”

Now Sam seemed very uncomfortable in his chair. “Yeah, um, sure. Of course. Ask away.”

Jack got the feeling that Sam would rather he walked away than asked away, but he doubted there would be a better time for these questions, and he felt safest with Sam. Sam was always patient with him, always trying to help him understand, when Dean might have rolled his eyes. Castiel had told Jack that he often had the same experience with the brothers when he needed clarification.

“What did you want to know? Is it-is it about how we, um-“

He nodded quickly and sat in the seat beside Sam at the large table. “How you knew he was the one, yes. Exactly.”

A laugh that sounded a lot like relief puffed out of Sam then. He smiled down at his hands. “Oh. Right. Um, I don’t know. I mean, Cas is…” The smile softened, and Sam sat up straighter to lean in a little. “Castiel is like no one I’ve ever met. And at first, I guess I thought that was because he was an angel. He was the first I met. That is, the first I met who told us he was an angel.”

“Gabriel,” Jack guessed. He had been reading through the Winchester Gospels, though Castiel had warned him not to mention this to Sam or Dean, and under no circumstances was he ever to tell them where he had found out about their existence, namely from Castiel himself.

“Uh. Right.” Sam sounded surprised. “Anyway, he wasn’t at all what I expected an angel to be like. But after meeting him, I met far too many more angels, and realized that Cas isn’t like us, but he isn’t like any of them either. For one thing, he’s the only angel that ever managed to fly fast enough to keep up with me and my brother,” he said fondly. “And that’s impressive by itself.”

“But not why you love him.”

“No. He’s been there for us for years. And there were times when he wasn’t.”

“Yet you love him anyway.”

Sam’s smile faded, as he stared down at his hands. At last, he looked up. “Jack, if you love someone, if you truly believe in someone, you have to love them and believe in them all the time, not just when you can see their light, but also when you feel their darkness. Because, Jack, we all have that. Every last one of us has darkness. But I know Castiel is good at his core. I feel that with every part of me. It’s why I resented him years ago when I was giving in to my darkness. Just his presence reminded me how wrong it was. And I think that’s why he avoided me and Dean when he gave in to his own darkness, back during Heaven’s civil war with Raphael. We all have that. And in the end, we’re judged not by what we do, but by what we love. Each of us, Dean, Cas, me, we have each come to a moment when everything stood still, when we could spiral beyond recognition, or we could surrender the power, let our friends love us and lead us back to the light.”

Jack watched Sam’s face with hunger. This was the wisdom he knew he needed. He listened in silence.

“Darkness feeds on power, Jack, until we’re blind with it. It takes strength and true goodness to reach past it to grasp the hand our loved ones are holding out for us. We will always lead one another back to the light. And that’s what makes us good. I know Castiel is good. My brother is good. And you, Jack. You’re good. You’re capable of darkness. No doubt about that. And you’re more powerful than we know what to do with. But you’re good. I know, because you keep grasping the hands that reach for you, to pull you into the light. Other hands are reaching for you too, but you seek out ours, because you know that at the end, we’re the ones who love and believe in you. We’ll make mistakes, and so will you. But we will always keep fighting, Jack. Right?”

He nodded quickly, feeling a burning behind his eyes that he tried to blink away.

Sam smiled again at last. “And as for Castiel? I love him because I love him. His is one of the hands I seek out in my darkest times, just like my brother, like our old friends Bobby and Jody and a very few others. But I know I’m in love with him because I reach for him in times of light too. He’s not just there when I’m desperate, Jack. He’s there when I’m a hero and a villain, but he’s also there when I’m just Sam. When I just miss my mom and don’t know how to deal with it. When I’m so hurt that I push away everyone who loves me, but I’m also reaching for them because I just don’t want to be alone. Cas is there for my grief, and he’s there for my fun. There are so many things to like about Cas, and that’s why we’ve been friends for so long. But I love him because I love him. I’m just grateful he feels that way too.”

Jack licked his lips the way Castiel sometimes did, and looked down at Sam’s hand reaching out for him. He sniffed and grasped it in his own.

“Is that what you wanted to know?”

He took a breath. “Sam, Lucifer is my father. And my mother is gone. I’ve thought of Castiel as my true Dad since before I was born. I don’t want Lucifer to be my father. His isn’t the hand I want to hold during my times of decision. Castiel is true. He’s my dad.”

Sam laughed kindly. “Does that make me and Dean your uncles?” he teased in a soft tone.

“Uncle Dean. He is to me what I think your friend Bobby was to you?”

The hunter nodded. “I think that would please Dean to hear that.”

“But, Sam, would it be inappropriate to think of you as the mate of my dad? Wouldn’t that make you...also my dad?”

Surprise lit Sam’s eyes. “I...I don’t...Yeah, I mean, of course that’s…”

“I call Castiel by his name, and you too. But in my heart, would it be all right to think of you as Dad?”

It was strange the way Sam seemed both proud and terrified at the same time, with that look of shock on his face. This smile was one Jack had never seen before. “Yeah, Jack. Call me Sam. Call him Cas. But we’d be honored to be your dads.” He nodded slowly. "That's just more evidence that I must have done something good in my life, to have earned your trust like that."

Warmth draped over him like a soft blanket, and he felt the same aching devotion as when he heard his mother speak to him through the video, telling him, “I’m your mom.” It felt just as right as that moment. “Good. Thank you. And, Sam, I’m going to help you find your mother. I promise.”

The haunted hazel eyes watched him. “Thank you, Jack. We’ll talk more soon, okay? I think...I think I’d like to try to sleep now, if you’re all right.”

The nephilim squeezed his dad’s hand and imbued him with a tiny tendril of power which would aid him in his quest for the sleep which seemed to elude him nightly. “Good night, Sam.”

Sam blinked hard against sudden sleepiness. “Good night, Jack.”

He watched the hunter stumble toward his bedroom, and then turned to smile at the silent angel standing out of sight at the doorway. “He’s a good man, Castiel.”

The angel sighed happily. “He is, Jack. One of the best.”

“We must find his mother. I must find his mother.”

This sigh was full of sadness. “I hope we can. For now, I will join him and watch over his sleep, and remind him that he is loved.”

Jack nodded, and sat back as Castiel followed after Sam without a sound. He had to find Sam’s mother. No matter what it took, he would do it. Sam was kind enough to help fill the holes left in Jack’s heart. Jack had to return that favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Something Good. Sam still has much recovery to go through, but he's getting there. If you liked this, please comment and/or recommend! 
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
